


Tranquility

by RainRenegade



Series: Disney One-Shots [1]
Category: Mulan (1998)
Genre: Bisexual Li Shang, Friendship/Love, Hurt/Comfort, Male Friendship, Men Crying, Mulan (1998) References
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:08:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28465059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RainRenegade/pseuds/RainRenegade
Summary: Li Shang has had his fair share of traumatic experiences. After all, he is a war captain. However, when he finds his father's helmet in a pile of snow surrounding a village crumbled to ashes, it's all he can do to contain himself. Can Fa Ping (secretly Fa Mulan) keep him stable in a time where stability is near impossible?
Relationships: Fa Mulan | Hua Mulan/Li Shang (Disney), Fa Ping/Li Shang (Disney)
Series: Disney One-Shots [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2084988
Comments: 2
Kudos: 46





	Tranquility

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, everyone! If you're reading this, that means you've stumbled on my first AO3 piece! First of all, thank you for choosing mine out of all the other billions that you had to pick from. Secondly, I'd love constructive criticism, as long as it's kind! This is my debut here, so please be nice. Without further ado, I hope you enjoy Tranquility!

Shang doesn’t know what to do. How to feel. Why he’s even on the battlefield, leading a legion he’s been told will lead China to failure. He certainly doesn’t know how to feel about finding his father, General Li, hopelessly dead in a demolished village. Ugh, if the pain in his chest would just go away, if he could focus on the mission instead of what was screaming inside of his heart…  
Shang briefly nods at Chien-Po, the retriever of General Li’s helmet, before stepping away to the edge of a hill not far from the troops. He drops his father’s helmet into the pale snow before him, almost giving into the urge to kick it aside and jump off the mountaintop. He doesn’t. Instead, he bows before his father’s helmet respectfully like any good son would, his face completely devoid of emotion, and turns to face the group of disorganized soldiers.   
“It’s clear we’ve underestimated the Huns. Let this be a reminder that they’re no easy rival.”   
When the men continue to stare at him blankly, his face scrunches into a more stern expression.   
“That was an order to go, gentlemen,”   
No response.  
“Have I made that clear?” he spits, marching to the front of the order.   
Finally, a mixture of “yessir” and “we apologize” escapes from the disgruntled soldiers.   
“Good. Let’s move out.”   
Shang begins to lead the troop onward, not even taking a second glance at the discarded helmet. He can’t afford to crumble in front of his entire legion. Not right now. There’s a literal war going on. His father is probably watching him right now, scolding him from his place in the ancestral shrine.   
Everything comes with a price, Shang. You may have lost your father, but you will win this war. You have to. You… you need to.   
Out of the corner of his eye, Shang sees a soldier out of line. He’s standing over his father’s helmet, putting some sort of mangled, dirty object on the ice next to it.   
“He-...” Shang starts, but it gets caught in his throat.   
It’s Fa Ping. The man who, at first, was a lost cause but now continues to impress the captain every single day. The man Shang secretly feels is their key to winning the war.   
He doesn’t realize half of the group has walked ahead of him until he finally tears his gaze away from Ping and it’s right there in front of him. Shang sprints forward to try to catch up with the front of the group, all the while a delicate hand faintly reaches his shoulder. The tired captain pauses to face the tapper, only to realize that yippee, it’s Ping again.   
“Yes, Soldier Ping?” Shang blurts out, the crowd of recruits already well past the two of them now.   
Ping rearranges his palm on Shang’s shoulder so that it’s firmly set there and gives him an all-too sympathetic look. It conveys one message: intensity.   
Shang doesn’t respond. He doesn’t know how to deal with all these emotions. He hasn’t cried over something since he was little, and he certainly won’t be pouring his heart out to a man he met a couple weeks ago.   
He turns away and begins to storm back to the head of the legion, not even giving Ping a nod. Shang doesn’t care if it’s not cordial. He can’t be fussing like a two year-old right now. There’s a war going on, so he HAS to do everything right, he has to prove himself right now, and he has to make sure his troops are going to be the most worthy in China.   
That’s why Shang is even more surprised with himself when he falls back again, letting the men weave around him in a zigzag. Ping is still keeping up the rear.   
“Chi-Fu, since you obviously know everything about what being a captain and leading an army entails, you head the troop for a moment while I have a word with one of our soldiers,” Shang demands coldly, his loathing for the king’s council member only supplying his tone with more hatred.   
The posh elder, draped in his blue robes and rectangular hat, agrees bitterly, his nose pointing in the air proudly. Shang doesn’t know what he has to be proud of.   
Shang can tell Ping is surprised when Shang retreats back to his place in line.   
“What do you want from me? Why do you continue to mess with me?” Shang mutters under his breath.   
“Mess with you? I… I…” Ping stutters, at a loss for words. His face is tinted pink.   
“You’re my best soldier, Ping. And this is why I need you to remember this is war, and we’re fighting for the country. Not an individual. Sometimes…” Shang's voice trails off.  
He can’t finish his own sentence.  
“That’s why I went for my father this time,” Ping admits quietly, “I’d rather die than watch him die.”  
That statement makes Shang’s blood run cold. It’s not like he had a choice. He didn’t choose for his father to go out on the battlefield and suffer so much. Heck, he would’ve given the world to have him home safe. Still…. it’s not like he’d ever begged him to quit, either.   
Shang turns away from Ping, an unfamiliar emotion working its way into his chest and up his throat. Most of the men are way ahead of them now.   
“Get in line,” he snaps.   
“Captain, I- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend-”  
“GET IN LINE,” Shang shouts, pivoting back to face Ping. Spit flies out of his mouth in droplets and lands on Ping’s polished uniform.   
Ping backs away from Shang, looking truly terrified for the first time since his mishap at training camp. He quickly sprints ahead, where his horse, Chien-Po, Yao, and Ling are waiting. They stare, wide-eyed, at the angered captain. Shang can see Ping’s lips mutter “c’mon” to the group before they collectively continue after the others. He doesn’t care. He stares at them as they march towards the battlefield, not moving an inch. He watches them until it seems everyone is gone, and their shadows don’t echo onto the mountain rocks anymore. Until their footsteps don’t crunch against the icy ground.   
Shang sinks to his knees, pounding his balled fists into the ground. When he yanks them out, they’re purple and probably frostbitten. They burn like hell, but Shang doesn’t care. Nothing hurts more than how he feels right now. His honor may be dead, but so is his father. And there’s nothing he can do about it. Tears well in his eyes and he blinks them back, tilting his head upwards at the freezing air. This isn’t fair. Why? He’s done nothing but good in his life. It just… ugh, he misses him. His father was not the kindest man, but he had reasons not to be. Being a general in a war contains many consequences.   
Shang buries his face in his hands, trying to keep from crying out. He bites down on his fingers, a guttural scream finally tearing out of his mouth.   
Why are you so weak? Get over it, Shang. You said it yourself. We’re fighting for the country, not for an individual person. You’ll never be a real captain if you can’t grow past your obstacles.   
You’ll never be a real captain.  
Never be a real captain.   
Be a real captain.  
A real captain.  
Real captain.   
Captain.   
Maybe Chi-Fu is right. Maybe he doesn’t deserve this position. He let his father down. There’s no going back now.   
A footstep.   
A Hun? Great. This mission failed anyways. Maybe they’ll kill him quickly and painlessly.   
Crunch.   
Crunch.   
Crunch.  
Footsteps approaching even closer now.   
Shang falls backwards into the snow, sprawling out into a starfish position. Would he rather be stabbed or frozen to death? The aching despair in his chest is already suffocating him enough. He must calm down and contain himself.   
Crunch.   
Crunch.   
Crunch.   
Shang shuts his eyes and waits for the blow. It never comes.   
“Captain Shang? Are you alright?”  
When Shang opens his eyes, he immediately wishes he’d kept them closed.   
“Ping, what are you-”  
The uniformed soldier kneels down on his knee, grabbing Shang’s hand and pulling him up. He almost retreats back at how freezing the man is, but he yanks him into a sitting position nevertheless. Where Shang expects his hand to feel rough, it is smooth like silk. New calluses have formed on his upper palm, but his grip is… delicate.   
“I couldn’t have you all the way out here alone, sir, so I came to get you.”  
“I yelled at you, and ignored you… why am I so important?” Shang mumbles, glancing away from Ping reservedly.   
Ping clears his throat. “Well, I didn’t think it good that we would potentially go up against the Huns without the man that’s been training us since the beginning. Also..”   
Ping squeezes Shang’s shoulder.   
“What I’ve been trying to say is that I’m here for you, Shang. You probably never hear that from anybody, but it’s the truth. And if you need to talk to someone about this, about your emotions, then I’ll listen. Trust me, Shang. I know what it’s like to feel lonely and worthless. You’re not alone.”   
Shang moves his eyes back to meet Ping’s reluctantly, unable to speak. His throat is clogged up with sentiment. He runs a hand through the top of his head, trying to choke up words. All that comes out is a weak wheeze. It quickly snowballs into a sob. Shang finally lets the stinging tears tumble out of his eyes and race into the snow below him, his shoulders jerking with every sob. Ping pulls Shang into his chest in an embrace, but Shang doesn’t resist. Ping is warm, despite the frigid air blowing around them. The soldier holding him smells like green tea and lemongrass, mixed with sweat and rice. Shang wipes his face, his sleeves now damp with tears and snot.   
Ugh, what is his family going to say? Is this going to make his ancestors scorn him? Ugh, his head hurts.. He should be up there leading China’s finest troops… not acting like a child… he.. he…   
“It’s okay, you’ll be okay,” Ping whispers softly. He begins to rub circles around Shang’s tense back.   
Shang nearly smacks himself when he realizes he’s voicing his doubts aloud.   
“This is unprofessional, this shouldn’t be.. You shouldn’t be…” he murmurs, but it’s barely audible.  
Against all of his logical judgement, Shang burrows his face in Ping’s shoulder, practically shaking. Ping strokes Shang’s hair gently while he lets out years of pent-up anger, years of repressed anxiety, and years spent trying to figure out who he is. Shang can’t believe himself. He’s never felt like this. It was always numbness. Always biting his tongue and swallowing down how he really felt. Not… this.   
Shang’s gaze finally drifts back to Ping. His arms are wrapped around Shang protectively. He seems to be scanning the area with his eyes, lost in thought. Snowflakes land on his nose gently and melt, but he doesn’t seem to notice. Shang releases his grip on Ping a little bit. His embrace probably hurt Ping a lot, considering Shang was hugging him like a lifeline before, and the muscle-toned man isn’t the gentlest force to be reckoned with. That makes Shang realize how slim Ping really is. A thin figure, delicate hands… Shang hopes he didn’t break the other man. He takes his first ragged breath in a few minutes, and tries to calm himself down while he sorts things out. He doesn’t want to leave Ping’s arms, but there’s a war to fight and they both need to be there to win it.  
Shang pulls away, and immediately wants to retreat back into Ping’s warmth. The familiar feeling of fear washes over him, but he stands up anyway. Ping pushes himself up next to Shang, voicing Shang’s thoughts;  
“Let’s go catch up with the other men,” he announces. A pause. “... if you’re ready,” Ping adds.   
Shang nods curtly, his face stern. He tries to ignore the fact that his eyes feel swollen and his body is still shaking.   
Ping frowns. “Hey, only if you’re ready… you won’t be able to focus in battle if you still feel like you still need to let some out. I mean, of course, you’d probably need to make it quick. The Huns are kind of approaching us soon…”  
“Let’s go,” Shang mumbles.   
Ping bows to Shang, his face reddening. “Erm, yes sir, of course, Shang!”  
Shang sighs, trudging forward and following his soldiers’ footsteps in the snow. Ping follows behind him nervously. Something seems to be slowing him down.   
“I swear I’m not as scary as I seem. You’re allowed to walk beside me, if that’s what’s inhibiting you.”   
Ping scurries up to match Shang’s pace.   
“Whaat, scary? That is, like, the last thing we think of when we see you,” Ping stutters, plastering on a smile that looks painful.   
Shang snickers, turning his head to look at Ping instead of the path in front of him. He trips over a rock and faceplants into the snow. The tip of the rock cuts into his cheek and leaves a small gash, but what hurts him more is his pride. When his eyes shift up to Ping, the first thing he expects to see is the other man smirking at him. Instead, Ping looks concerned.   
“Are you okay?”   
He offers his hand to Shang, but Shang uses his knee to push himself up instead. Suddenly, his lip trembles, and he nearly groans. His eyes are starting to produce more teardrops again.   
Ping furrows his eyebrows and goes to search for something to press on Shang’s wound, but Shang shakes his head agitatedly.   
“No, I…”   
Ping sighs. Then, he does something unexpected.  
Ping takes Shang’s large, stinging hand in his own, and begins to move forward.   
“I’m sorry,” Shang mutters and wipes his face. “Everything is just… coming out. And I can’t stop it. I feel like a pregnant woman.”  
Ping chuckles and leads Shang along the path.   
“At least you’re NOT a pregnant woman, right?”   
Shang covers his face with his free hand, the bleed not the only reason his cheeks are burning.   
“I, erm, durrrr… yes. I’m a man. Duhhh.” Shang clears his throat loudly. “Move faster, Ping.”   
They march for a while in silence before Shang finally looks back down at the other man.   
“... thanks.”   
Ping smiles sadly. “You don’t need to thank me.”  
Shang scowls. “No, I do. You... helped me back there.”  
Ping nods slowly.  
“Hey, look, there they are,” Ping comments, peering at the air in front of him.  
Shang quickens his pace, clutching his cheek. The group has stopped to wait for the missing recruit and their leader.   
Shang saunters forward, sending one last affirmation to Ping and coming to take hold of the situation. Hopefully his eyes have dried enough by now.   
“Soldiers,” he commands, the mask of urgency he normally wears slipping over his face once again.   
“I’ve yet to understand why you’re not still moving.” Yep, Shang's forced himself to be normal again.  
“What happened to you two?” Ling hisses in Ping’s ear.   
Yao smirks. “I bet ya got in a fight with Pretty Boy, huh? Did you beat him? I mean, judging from the mark on ‘is face, I’d say so.”   
Chien Po frowns at the three men below him.   
“Yao, my friend, what does violence solve?”  
Yao wrinkles his nose. “Nothing… but, hey, it was Ping this time!”   
Ling snorts, but Ping is too busy watching Shang.  
Shang takes his rightful place as the leader again, but he keeps his eye on the rear of the group this time. The four men in the back are goofing off, but for the first time, Shang doesn’t feel the need to reprimand them. After all, he knows he can trust them when the time comes. He can trust Ling, Chien Po, and even Yao. Most importantly, there’s one person he knows he can count on for anything, even for the short time they’ve had to know each other.   
He can trust Ping.

**Author's Note:**

> Again, THANK YOU for reading all the way to the end! I'm honored that you stayed :). Feel free to comment what you thought of my story in the comments! Have a wonderful day!


End file.
